Color Blind (2 page)

Chapter
2

Luka

Okay, maybe Sarah Alba isn’t an actual
midget, but she is very, very tiny. And very, very hard to miss.

My brown-skinned, fellow dance team
member is five-foot one inches of Filipino fireball, and if she had something
to say, everyone in yelling distance usually heard it.

“Camryn Grimes!” Sarah screams, eliciting
a cringe from me.

“Girl, you better look at me when I’m
talking to you! What happened last night? We were supposed to get together so
you could help me with the hip-hop! You know I need some black girl flavor when
it comes to those funky routines!”

I sigh. I’m not even good at hip-hop. But
that never seems to matter. Black girls are supposed to be great at hip-hop. So
everyone assumes it’s my specialty, even though it definitely isn’t.

“Sorry, Sarah. I was at the studio until
late, then that Lit paper was calling my name. Tonight?”

“
Mmm
-hmm. I
guess so. Catch ya at lunch! I brought
lumpia
to
share!”

She runs off, hollering loudly at a group
of girls down the hall. Sarah always seems to be running, maybe because her
legs are so much shorter than everyone else’s. It takes her three steps to
everyone else’s one.

“I’ll see you in English, D,” I call to
Dara, as I turn toward my locker.
 

Walking through the blue-
lockered
hallways before first period is always like
walking through the zoo exhibits at feeding time. Such an assortment of species
to observe. I tend to notice all the couples, since I’m not currently a part of
one. Actually, I’ve never been a part of one. Unlike Dara, I’m not a stunning
beauty who just doesn’t notice the attention of attractive guys. I actually know
I’m not gorgeous. I mean, I can say that I’m okay looking. Maybe even pretty on
a good day.
 
But I’ve always been
sort of invisible as far as guys are concerned. I’m not sure why. It could be
because I never belonged to a particular clique. I am a bit of a chameleon
where school groups are concerned. During theater seasons, I can always be found
around the thespians. Last spring, I agreed to be a part of the junior prom
committee, so I hung out with a lot of student council members. I am also on
the dance team, so during football and basketball season I can be found
rehearsing and hanging out with my teammates.

I grew up attending an elementary school
where, in every classroom, you might only have found one or two black children.
So many of my friends that I grew up with are white, too. But white guys don’t
usually date black girls. The black guys have trouble getting to know me
because I’m not with the black girl clique. So I have a feeling the guys at
school are just confused. I don’t blame them. I’m confused myself sometimes
about where I belong.

Fascination sweeps over me as I watch a
cheerleader snuggle up to her boyfriend, a wrestler. Her short pleated skirt
and his letterman’s jacket are a big clue to their school activities; a total
idiot would know it. Across the hall from them, two student council members
cozy up on the floor, engrossed in a textbook. In the commons, I look left and
see a black couple hugging by the patio doors. The guy is standing with his
legs apart, arms slung tightly around his girl, and she is nestled snugly between
his legs as they embrace. I look right and face a dark-haired girl with a blue
streak in her tresses locked in a kiss with her partner, a boy with tattoos
lacing up both of his arms and curling around his neck.

Couples are everywhere in a high school
and a part of me aches at the sight of them. I let the loneliness win until the
bell rang, and then I pull myself together and head to class.

It would be nice to have someone to share
this crazy ride with.
 
The more
practical part of me tells the romantic side to shut the hell up. Couples are always
dealing with drama. I’m drama-free. I don’t need a relationship screwing up the
path I am clearing to a different kind of life.

***

I drop my dance bag down by the front
door and sniff.
 
My mom is
 
whipping up my absolute favorite
dinner.
 
I’m drawn toward the
kitchen, led by my nose.

“Chicken
Parm
!
 
Yum,” I exclaim.

“Your
favorite, I know,” Mom replies, bustling around the kitchen preparing
plates.
 
“Would you set the table
please?”

“Sure.”
I retrieve the paper plates and plastic forks from a drawer and bring them to
the kitchen table. “I forgot you had the night off from the warehouse.”

“That’s
right, baby,” she answers. “And I wanted to make sure you actually had a real
dinner to eat for a change.”

We
sit down at our small glass-top table to eat. My mom immediately starts asking
about my college applications.

“I
know you want to go the performing arts route, honey, but you need to put in
applications at regular universities, too. Don’t put all your eggs in one
basket. The most important thing is an education.”

I
sigh. I know she’s right. But an education just isn’t the most important thing to
me
. Dance is. Performing. Being on
stage was where I belong.

“Okay,
mom. I promised I would apply at Tech and GMU, but I’m really headed to L.A. or
New York after graduation.”

She
shakes her head. “That’s a tough life, Cam. Lots of struggle,
tryin
’ to make it.”

“And
a tough life isn’t anything I’m not used to,” I mumble.

She
is quiet, putting forkfuls of pasta in her mouth while she thinks about my
comment.

“I’m
sorry, Mom. I don’t mean that. I just mean that I can handle it. I know what
trying to make it as a performer entails.”

“It’s
your life,” she answers. “Your decision.” She picks up her plate and shuffles
tiredly over to the sink.

I
sit there, kicking myself for hurting her feelings. My mom works her ass off so
that I can have dance classes. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t even have the
passion I do. I go over to the sink and pick up a rag. We finish the dishes
together in silence.

Later that night, Dara is in my room,
helping me pack for a weekend in the Outer Banks with her family. If it weren’t
for Dara’s family, I never would have had a vacation. I am so lucky we met in
our first grade classroom all those years ago.

“Guess what?” Dara asks.

“Um…you got into Tech early decision?” I
guess, trying to decide which bathing suit to pack. I only have two. I put them
both in the bag.

“That’s
not it!
 
It’s a much more exciting ‘guess
what!’”
 
She pops up like a puppet
bouncing on a string. Sometimes the girl is too bouncy for her own good. In a
minute, she was going to fall off of my bed into a heap on the carpet.

I am distracted, holding up two tank tops
I found on a dollar rack in the mall. “Which one?”

She snatches them both from my
hands.
 
“Camryn Rae Grimes!
 
Pay attention.
 
This is important!”

I focus my attention on her, waiting
expectantly.

“That’s better.
 
We have a date on Thursday night,” she
announced, like I had just won the lottery.
 
She throws herself back on my pillows,
her blond hair splaying out around her to frame her face.

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” I ask
suspiciously. “Don’t you mean you have a date Thursday night?”

“Just what I said.
 
See, Brandon’s friend Luka-“

“Stop right there!” I interrupt.
 
I narrow my eyes.
 
“I don’t need a set-up.
 
I’m not even looking for a boyfriend
right now, Dara!”

She nods, full of solemn sincerity. She
makes her blue eyes as wide and innocent as possible.
 
“I know.
 
But Cam, sometimes you don’t go looking
for love.
 
Sometimes it finds
you!”
 
She sighs dramatically and leaps
off the bed.
 
“Please come,
Cam.
 
Even if it’s just to hang out
and have fun.”

I roll my eyes toward the ceiling,
considering.
 
At the same time I
consider the date, I consider slapping Dara. I always have fun hanging out with
Dara and Brandon.
 
She’s my best
friend, and she doesn’t ask me for much.
 
Brandon is a nice guy, and I’ve seen Luka Caliper around at school.
 
They play on the basketball team
together.
 
He’scute
.
 
Light-skinned, tall, with deep dimples
in both cheeks.
 

Okay, who am I kidding?

He is gorgeous. We don’t have any classes
together, though.
 
I have never had
a conversation with Luka.
 

I sigh.
 
“Alight,
alright.
 
I’m in for
Thursday night.
 
But don’t expect a
love connection.
 
This is just a
friendly outing.”

I pause, thinking.

“God, does Luka think this is a date?”

Dara grins broadly and hugs me tightly.
 
“Oh, I’m sure he’s on board for the
friendly outing thing.
 
This is
going to be so freaking awesome!”

Freaking awesome or a freaking disaster.
The jury is still out.

Chapter
3

Double
Date

“Oh, my God, that was
so
funny!” Dara laughs and links her arm
through Brandon’s as we leave the theater.

Brandon glances down at her.
 
“I know, right?
 
Funniest movie I’ve seen in a long
time.
 
Especially that one part.”

They walk in front of us with an easy,
casual grace that signifies their couple status.
 
I smile just looking at them, feeling so
happy for Dara.
 
I am thrilled that
she has finally found someone like Brandon.
 
They just go together.
 
It’s like they had been together all
along.

And on the flip side of my happiness lies
a hint of lime-green envy. Because I haven’t found that yet. As much as I
insist I’m not looking, it would be nice for love to sneak up behind me and
bite me in the neck.

What must it feel like, what she and
Brandon have?
 
I glance at Luka
walking next to me. He is close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off
his body. He’s like my own personal space heater.

“So did you like the movie?” I ask him.

Luka shrugs and eyes me from the corner
of his eye. He really is cute. All night, he’s been a little on the quiet side
but attentive at the same time. His toothy smile makes me feel special, wanted.

“I’m a movie buff.
 
I like all movies,” he replies.

I nod in agreement.
 
“I’m a movie buff too, but I’m more into
action than comedy.
 
It has to be
just the right kind of funny for me to really appreciate it.”

He bobs his head, the smile he aims at me
slightly askew.
 
“Was that one not
the right kind of funny?”

“Well,” I reply.
 
“There were good parts, but most of them
I had already seen in the previews.”

“Yeah man, I hate it when they do
that.
 
Spoils everything, doesn’t
it?”

“Totally,” I agree.
 

Dara glances back at us, turning around
in Brandon’s arm and walking backwards.
 
“So where do we eat?”

Luka looks at me.
 
“What are you in the mood for?”

“Italian,” I answer instantly.
 

Dara rolls her eyes.
 
“Stunner.”

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms over my
chest.
 
“I don’t always want
Italian!”

“Okay, to be fair, you don’t always want
Italian.
 
One out of three times you
want Mexican.”
 

Luka laughs.

I smile, heat flooding my cheeks.
 
“Well, I’m a woman of culture and good
taste, what can I say?”

Brandon chimes in, “Right.
 
Taco Bell is really,
really
cultured and tasteful.”

I shoot him an angry glare and open my
mouth to reply.

“Olive Garden it is!” Luka interjects
quickly.
 
He slings his arm around
my shoulder and steers me toward Brandon’s Jeep.
 
“Let’s go!”

I let Luka guide me toward the Jeep, not
sure how I feet about the close contact.
 
This isn’t supposed to be a date, but Luka seems like a really nice
guy.
 
He was super easy to talk to,
and the exact person girls are talking about when they say, “he ain’t bad to
look at, either!” I don’t usually dig the dreadlocks thing, but they look natural
on him, like he shouldn’t be wearing his hair any other way.
 
He is tall, at least six inches taller
than I am, which I like a lot.
 
It’s
nice to look up into his startlingly gorgeous eyes when he talks.
 

But even though I like him, and I think
he’s cute, am I really
into
him?
 
I don’t know.
 
What does that feel like?
 
I guess we look like we go
together.
 

In a lot of people’s eyes, especially in
southern Virginia, that counts for everything.
 

But I don’t feel that way.
 
To me, Luka feels like a friend, not a
boyfriend.
 

I sigh.

When we arrive at the restaurant, a girl
I recognize from school is leaning on the hostess stand, looking bored. She’s
staring lazily into the distance, and one hand is cupped under her chin.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
 

Dara glances at me and narrows her
eyes.
 
“Is that—”?

“Yep,” I reply, staring at Courtney
Evans’ long black extensions as they bounce around her beautiful, light brown
face.
 
Courtney is a member of the P.B.G.C’s.;
a card-carrying member of the clique. Courtney is also a cheerleader, and knows
Brandon and Luka very well.
 
She
cheers at all of their games, and the cheerleaders always sponsor a basketball
player to buy gifts for during basketball season. They spoil the boys rotten,
offering to do any little task the players might require. For a lot of the
cheerleaders, those tasks include flavors of the sexual variety. Which makes me
want to stick my finger down my throat every time I look at a cheerleader.

She looks up from the hostess stand when
we approach.
 
Her eyes widen.

“Oh,
hey
Brandon. Hey Luka,” she greets them with a coy smile.
 
“Y’all must have known I worked here and
came for some free pasta!
 
I can do
that for you, you know.” She eyes them suggestively.

Brandon glances at Dara, and then looks
Courtney straight in the eye.

“Hey Court, I didn’t know you worked here
actually, but that’s cool.
 
Wouldn’t
want to get you in trouble.
 
We just
need a table for four.”

Dara grabs his hand and stepped forward,
her eyes narrowed on Courtney, daring her to say anything. She’s unable to
resist the challenge that Courtney presents.

“Oh, okay,” replies Courtney, the
disappointment ebbing through her voice. She grabs four menus and heads off
toward the back of the restaurant.

When we arrive at our table, she tries
again.
 
Completely ignoring me, she
turns to Luka.
 

“So, Luka, you guys hitting the weight
room hard to get ready for the season?
 
You know I’m trying to pick your name this year for your Cheer Sweetheart.
 
I have some real good ideas. You know, ways
to loosen you up for those tough games.
 
You definitely want a girl with
real
attitude to do that for you, don’t you?”
 
She bites her bottom lip alluringly, knowing her words must be getting a
rise out of him, and me, for different reasons.

If
she wants real attitude--

Luka gazes at Courtney with blatant disbelief
in his eyes.
 
“Court, you may end up
being my Cheer Sweetheart, but my private sweetheart is a different deal.
 
And I’ve always felt that attitude is
overrated. Don’t you think so Cam?”
 
He pulls my chair out so I can sit.

I can’t help it. My eyes light up.
 
I practically savor his words, repeating
them in my head.
 
I thought guys
like Luka always responded to girls like Courtney.
 
Apparently she does too, judging by how
close her jaw comes to touching the floor.
 
She manages to pick it up, though, and sends a dangerous glance at Dara
and then me. She flounces away toward the front of the restaurant.

Brandon and Luka meet each other’s eyes
across the table, and both burst out laughing.

“Man, that girl is
trippin
’!”
Brandon exclaims.

“Dude, she always
trippin
’,
Luka answers. The jovial tone is his voice is making my heart squeeze, just a
little.
 
“Thinking she can hook any
dude she wants just by dropping hints that she’s easy as first grade math.
 
I’m not even into all that.”

I raise my eyebrows.
 
“Really?
 
You’re not into a girl that wants to
give you all the goods virtually for free?”
 
I’m doubtful.

Dara grins at me and throws her napkin at
my face.
 
“Didn’t he just prove it?”

Luka looks at me.
 
“Cam, I’m really not feeling her, or any
other girl that wants to throw herself at me because I happen to be good with a
basketball in my hands.
 
Courtney
doesn’t know anything else about me other than the fact that I can score on the
court. “

I nod. The surprise Luka just hit me with
is still
richocheting
through my brain.
 
“Well she didn’t seem too happy to see
me with you.
 
Or Dara with Brandon,
for that matter.”

“Yeah, I wonder what I did?” Dara asks
indignantly.
 
“I don’t even know
that girl.”

I laugh bitterly.
 
“Yeah, but you’re on her radar now, and
she’s not the only one.
 
You’re
dating Brandon, and you don’t look like them.” I glanced pointedly at Dara’s
hand on the table, holding Brandon’s.

She glances down, and her eyes widen.
 
“Oh, you’ve got to be
kidding
me!
 
This is a race thing?”

I roll my eyes.
 
“Dara, you’ve been my best friend since
first grade, and there’s nothing I don’t tell you. With some people, you know
that
everything
is a race issue.”

Just then, our server appears to ask us for
our drink orders.
 
For the rest of
our evening, I’m lost in thought.
 
Luka really surprised me.
 
I
didn’t expect him to take Courtney up on her offer right in front of us, but I
definitely hadn’t expected him to completely diss her either.
 
He is definitely different than I
expected him to be.
 
I know for a
fact that the guys he calls his friends are sleeping around with every girl
they can manage to get naked in the backseats of their cars. I’m not sure if
Luka is one of those guys. Dara seems to think he deserves the benefit of the
doubt. But I still only want to be his friend.
 

Nothing more.